


the morning after the night before

by Medie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>God bless that Athosian hooch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the morning after the night before

**Author's Note:**

> written as a back up for the Sheppard/Weir ficathon. Written for [](http://icarus-abides.livejournal.com/profile)[**icarus_abides**](http://icarus-abides.livejournal.com/) who asked for "Intimate nakedness, S/W dancing, Carson/McKay snarky bickering" hopefully this fits the bill....thanks to [](http://marag.livejournal.com/profile)[**marag**](http://marag.livejournal.com/) and [](http://stargatejunkie.livejournal.com/profile)[**stargatejunkie**](http://stargatejunkie.livejournal.com/) for beta!

Morning is beautiful on Atlantis. When the sun peeks over the horizon and floods the city with light, it becomes a sight so beautiful Michelangelo would weep with envy. No artist dead or alive can hope to capture the sheer grandeur of it. Indeed, few would ever dare try.

It was a sight unparalleled and John Sheppard couldn't care less. Most mornings he was completely unaware of it, since his room was on an inner ring of the complex and had no windows. No windows meant no beauteous cityscape but it more than made up for it with one key benefit: no bothersome sunbeams determined to wake unsuspecting air force colonels with hangovers from hell.

With a groan, John batted at the air, futilely attempting to fend it off. When that inevitably failed he rolled away, cuddling into Elizabeth to hide his face in her hair.

A light sleeper, the motion woke her. Eyes heavy with sleep, she had to fight to open them and, almost instantly, regretted it.

"Ohhh..." Her moan filtered up through the mass of her hair as she pressed a hand to her forehead. "How much did we drink last night?"

He tried to lift his head to look at her but only managed to move a fraction. "Too much. Said it before, say it again, whatever the Athosians brew up? Brings whole new meaning to the term wasted."

She tried to laugh and winced. "I can see the Daedalus bringing a shipment of extra strength ibuprofen next time. I'll say this for them, Teyla's people throw one hell of a celebration."

_The previous evening..._

"Hard to believe we missed the big anniversary huh?" John looked over at Elizabeth, beautiful in the glow of the firelight. "Course, the near apocalypse would kinda get in the way of the surprise party."

She laughed, bringing the wooden mug to her lips and gasping down a swallow of the infamous Athosian homebrew. "It would," she agreed, bringing up a hand to wipe at a stray droplet of the liquid.

He beat her to the punch, catching it with his thumb and then sucking it into his own mouth, an action she watched with great interest. "Ah well, belated fun is better than no fun at all."

Elizabeth laughed softly, eyes still watching him, "Wise words Colonel," she teased, emphasizing the title. "We can celebrate your promotion as well."

"And you putting the smackdown on the general and company back home." He grinned. "The SGC's great for good gossip. Wish I could've been a fly on that wall."

"Oh it wasn't that good," she pointed out, grinning despite herself. "I could have handled it a lot better, but -- " Elizabeth shrugged, the grin still on her face. "I'm blaming jet lag."

"Was a hell of a trip getting home," he agreed, leaning back against the log to watch the dancers, one of his hands sliding over to rest on her neck. After a moment, his fingers began the now-familiar rubbing motion that she loved. "Between the briefings with Caldwell and, you know, exploring the cabin."

His voice dropped to an equally familiar register that made her shiver. "Stop that," she warned with a near-purr. "We're staying for the entire party. We said we would. We _promised_."

"We did." John nodded. "We did." He looked regretful, pulling his hand back. "Wanna dance?" When she seemed about to refuse he pointed out, "Hey, we stay here, the hands are gonna wander and we'll end up in the jumper again." His gaze turned wicked as he added, "Which, if you don't mind me saying, is _not_ a bad thing."

Elizabeth grinned and put her cup down. "Let's dance. There's always the ride back to Atlantis for...that."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said in her ear, tugging her into the group of dancers, holding her just a little closer than was considered proper. Enough that their bodies brushed against each other with their movement. "Really, really, hold you to it."

She laughed, falling against him when her feet tangled beneath her and threw her off balance. She clutched for his shoulders, feeling his hands grasp her waist to support her. "In the literal sense it seems," she managed, feeling the strength of his body beneath her hands. It was very hard to resist the urge to just cut right to the puddle jumper plans when he was this close and her senses were caught up in him.

"Yeah, kinda does, doesn't it?" he agreed, his voice barely audible over the music the Athosians were playing. Music their motion was far too slow for but, wisely, no one pointed that out. They were Atlantis' favorite worst kept secret. No one appeared to be watching but, of course, everyone was and grinning like idiots over the display.

In a strange, typically Atlantean way, it appeared they were good for morale and that made Elizabeth's alcohol-fogged brain summon up fairly ridiculous images. One of which was a recruitment poster with them in flagrante delicto with the caption, "Atlantis wants you -- to watch!"

"What's that look for?" John asked, glancing down and catching sight of a giggle about to form.

She let it out, a rare occurrence for her, and pressed closer. "I'll tell you later."

_Present day..._

Rodney and Carson were fighting again. There were days growing up that Elizabeth had been convinced Grandma Julie and Grandpa Donald were the epitome of the old married couple. They bickered, finished each other's sentences, and even finished each other's sentences while bickering -- she'd thought them the perfect example of it.

She hadn't met Carson Beckett and Rodney McKay yet.

"Are you quite mad?" Carson asked with a greatly affronted expression on his face. "Well and truly?"

"No, actually, but I'm within spitting distance of it!" Rodney shot back, very nearly demonstrating exactly what he'd been speaking of. "It _will_ work!"

"It will fail miserably and we'll all die horrible painful deaths and if that happens, Rodney McKay, don't you come crying to me!" Carson announced with a dramatic gesture of his hands.

"Mercifully, Carson, if I am indeed dead when this all pans out, I won't have to listen to _you_ anymore," Rodney said. "Elizabeth, will you please point this out to him?"

Rubbing her forehead, Elizabeth turned her gaze on them. "Please point out what, exactly, Rodney?"

Exasperated, he frowned at her in that 'I'm sorry, did you just admit I was speaking and you were not listening?' way that he had, "Haven't you been listening, Elizabeth?"

"Of course, she has, Rodney," John leapt in, "but we lost track of you two a few arguments back." He shrugged and made a face, "When you two get wound up..." he waved a finger in a complicated pattern, "Y'know."

"Yes, Colonel, that was so wonderfully and incredibly convoluted but ultimately pointless," McKay dismissed with a sniff of disdain, "back to what I was saying--"

"Actually," Elizabeth jumped in, pushing aside her hangover as best she could, "perhaps we can reschedule?" She smiled wanly at Carson. "I'm still feeling a little under the weather."

"Ah yes, our hosts' best brew having its way with your head, then?" He smiled sympathetically. "I've a batch of Grammy's best cure working down in Medical at the moment. We can adjourn and I can get you a nice hot mug of it?"

"Yes, _please_," she said. "I'm sorry, Rodney, but I'm sure the water reclamation problem can wait?"

"Oh sure," he nodded, "but in the meantime, I hope you don't mind a little E.coli in your water."

"Rodney, we're three galaxies away from E.coli." Sheppard pointed out before thinking better of it and looking at Carson, "We are, aren't we?"

"Well," Carsonr hesitated then swiftly changed the subject, "Don't suppose you'll be needing a mug as well, will you Colonel?" He got up and rushed around to usher Elizabeth toward the doors. "You're looking a little peaked. Green about the gills you might say."

"Oh just go with him, Sheppard," McKay said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Before Carson strains something trying to drag you two out of here." He got up, rustling his papers together with his laptop. "It's pitiful really."

"You mind your tongue, Rodney," Carson blustered with a warning look. "Elsewise that mug I promised you suddenly goes missing. You know how Ronon can pack it away."

"Aye," Rodney mocked in a bad approximation of the doctor's accent. "I do, and don't you even think about it. I'm in excruciating pain here."

It was John's turn to roll his eyes as they walked out of the room. "Could've fooled me."

"Oh but he is," Beckett assured. "T'was last night that we were feeling no pain. This morning, it seems, we're all making up for it."

"Next time we have this party?" John leaned into Elizabeth's personal space, breath tickling her neck, "Make the next day a citywide holiday."

She laughed softly. "Good plan."

_The previous evening..._

Gasping for breath, Elizabeth rested her forehead on John's bare shoulder as he skimmed his fingertips down her sides while he too panted for air. She turned her face slowly, snuggling in against his neck and tried not to think too hard about how good it felt to just sit here like this. If she thought about it too long she had a hunch she'd never move again. John Sheppard was a sin too delectable to resist for too long and when a woman had responsibilities, duties, and all the things young girls aspired to with no comprehension of the weight of them…dangerous temptations were not things considered for too long.

Which was, of course, precisely why she had a damn hard time not considering them and why she spent so much time in serious contemplation of John's many…skills. Something she justified by at least making the attempt at putting it into the context of his physical capability in the field.

Yes. The field.

It was a flimsy excuse but it was all she needed. Her conscience had grown wonderfully easily assuaged in her time in Atlantis. A fact that, on some nights, worried her tremendously.

John was the first to speak when he pointed out, "Sooner or later, we're going to have to try and make for the mainland."

She huffed a laugh, not missing it when his body reacted. "Think you can fly?"

He guided her back so he could grin at her. "Is that a challenge, Doc?"

Elizabeth briefly considered correcting him on the lazy term, one which sounded as if he'd picked it up from General O'Neill, but she wasn't in much of a mood. Instead, she laughed and moved a little, irrationally pleased when his eyes slid shut. "I believe it is, Colonel."

"I'll have you know, this would not be the first time I've flown like this." He pointed out after a moment, summoning up a gleeful look which decidedly brought out the little boy in him. John Sheppard, she had decided, was a eternally frozen in the mindset of a mischievous little boy who found getting caught with one's hand in the cookie jar was just the best kind of thrill possible.

Which, of course, at this point made her the cookie jar but…it was an analogy she could go with. And go to some very, very, very interesting places at that.

"I'll try to ignore the fact you've just admitted to flying while under the influence of both alcohol and sex." She grinned. "But I have to point out this is a little different…"

He grinned all the wider. "Because it's you?"

She laughed. "No, though, thank you, I'm very flattered…but I was actually thinking more of your --" She tapped his head and then nodded back at the controls.

"Oh _that_." John tugged her forward on him, grinning wickedly. "I can fly this thing in my sleep, why not during sex?"

The scary thing of that, of course, was that she didn't disbelieve him.

_Present day..._

"Better?" John murmured into her ear when Carson had left them alone.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. "Much." Whether that was due to the medication or the feeling of John's hands rubbing at the back of her neck she didn't know. Well, she did, but that brought her back to the admission of just what kind of effect John Sheppard had on her and that was best left for other, more clear-headed, times. Which was never really. When John was around and the moment was right, clear-headed and Elizabeth did not mix. It was a damn annoying habit of his and even more annoying was the fact she wasn't sure she minded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He stole the opportunity to lean over and kiss her shoulder. "I asked, and Teyla brought back some of the wine." She looked at him with a faintly disbelieving look which brought out the wicked little boy grin. "Well, you know, I was thinking that maybe we could take out one of the jumpers and...No over indulging, I promise, Beckett'll kill me if we show up with hangovers again." He looked sheepish at the thought, although it didn't surprise her. After all, Carson Beckett and his medical staff evoked more fear in her people than she ever would--the specter of Janet Frasier loomed large in the SGC personnel they'd picked up and Carson didn't exactly discourage the perception. "Oh come on, Elizabeth, don't look at me like that - "

She tried to keep the look longer but failed miserably. Laughing still hurt but she did it anyway. "I have a meeting with Caldwell in ten minutes, but after that we were scheduled in."

"And I do hate to miss meetings," he said, practically hopping backward. "What was this one about?"

Elizabeth's smile turned slightly evil. Which was, she'd been told, scary as hell. "Staff performance evaluations." Something, everyone in the city knew, John hated with a passion beyond passion. "I'm sure we can do that while on a fly about."

"Oh I'm sure." He moved forward to risk another kiss. "I'll see you then."

"Don't forget to bring your files," she said with a look. "If you can fly a jumper -- "

He boggled then grinned. "True."

Elizabeth pulled on her jacket and watched him go with an interested eye. He really was a bad influence, not that she minded, Atlantis was beautiful in the afternoon and she could always appreciate a view.

Especially that one.


End file.
